Read Online A Texas Hill Country Christmas by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online Page B

from under the bonnet she wore. She had a small beauty mark on her right cheek and a tiny scar on her upper lip that just made her attractiveness distinctive rather than distracting from it. Her eyes, Seth happened to know, were a rich brown and could kindle a warm glow inside a man just by looking at him.
    He knew that because he had experienced just such a glow more than once while talking to Mrs. Kennedy. On such occasions, just being near her had a tendency to make him a little tongue-tied. That was a definite drawback for a man who had always considered himself to be a little on the glib side.
    Today she wasn’t making quite as strong an impression on him because of the circumstances. He was concentrating on getting her wagon out of the mud, instead of thinking about how pretty she was. There was nothing flirtatious about her attitude, either. Naturally, she was worried about this dilemma. The wagon was loaded with supplies she had bought at Mr. Truesdale’s crossroads store, and she had to get them back to her farm somehow.
    Seth’s saddle mount was standing nearby, reins dangling. He had been riding back to the Enchanted Rock Baptist Church, where he was the pastor, after visiting one of the congregation who was ill, when he spotted the stranded wagon. He would have stopped to help no matter who the wagon belonged to, since he liked to think of himself as a Good Samaritan, but he recognized the wagon’s passengers right away and that made him even more eager to be of assistance.
    â€œAll right, Charlie,” Seth said as he clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you ready to try again?”
    â€œAny time you are, Mr. Barrett,” Charlie affirmed.
    â€œMrs. Kennedy, if you’ll take hold of the harness and urge the team forward while we push . . .”
    â€œOf course,” she said.
    â€œIf we don’t get it loose this time, I’ll tie my horse to the wagon as well and see if that will help.”
    Seth and Charlie bent to the task, but before they could heave against the stubborn wagon, Seth heard riders coming along the road toward them. Horses’ hooves splashed loudly in the puddles. Seth looked over his shoulder and saw four men approaching. He straightened up as he recognized the barrel-chested rider in the lead.
    Felix Dugan reined his horse to a stop about twenty feet behind the wagon. The burly rancher was older than Seth, around forty. His face was round and sported what seemed to be a permanent sunburn year ’round. A mustache like a graying brush adorned his upper lip. His jaw was like a slab of Hill Country granite.
    As a preacher, Seth was supposed to like everybody, but he didn’t like Felix Dugan. The man had a hard, ruthless arrogance about him. His ranch was the largest in the area, and he tended to run roughshod over his neighbors anytime they clashed with him. Naturally enough, the men who rode for him weren’t any better. They smirked at Seth’s mud-splattered clothes.
    Even if Dugan had been a prince among men, though, Seth wouldn’t have liked him for one simple reason.
    Dugan was sweet on Delta Kennedy.
    A widower for quite a few years, Dugan had been heard to express his admiration for Delta on more than one occasion and voiced the opinion that she would make a fine wife for some man. He left no doubt that he was talking about himself.
    Now Dugan took off his hat, forced a smile onto his normally dour face, and greeted Delta by saying, “Good day to you, Mrs. Kennedy. You appear to have a bit of trouble on your hands.”
    He didn’t say anything to Seth. In fact, he acted like Seth wasn’t even there.
    â€œMy wagon is stuck,” Delta said unnecessarily.
    â€œWell, we’ll take care of that right away,” Dugan said. “Won’t we, boys?”
    The ranch hands riding with him grinned and nodded. One man said, “Sure thing, boss.”
    â€œMr. Barrett is helping us—”